


Visionary

by Sigmund



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: AU, Angst, Gen, Witch Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigmund/pseuds/Sigmund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From bbcmusketeer prompt: Rewrite for Commodities and A Rebellious Woman<br/>The reason d`Artagnan knew to go back to La Fere, knew that Athos was in danger is because he has The Sight, he, like his Mother before him. When this information is revealed Athos, Aramis, and Porthos promise to never reveal this secret to anyone for d`Artagnan`s safety. However the Cardinal has spies everywhere and is always looking for a way to destroy the Musketeers, with his latest spy Bonacieux finding tarot cards and other occult objects in d`Artagnans room, the Cardinal has d`Artagnan charged with Witch Craft and on trial facing a death at the stake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visionary

**Author's Note:**

> What was I thinking? No idea. The original prompt included Wicca, but I do not know enough about it to write about it. I apologize to the OP. Anyway, this spilled out. I did see Snow Piercer-- great movie, which makes me crave BAMF d'Artagnan. So I am taking a break-- going on a much needed vacation. I am bringing my notebook so who knows what I will return with. Most importantly, I want to thank all of the people who have given me kudos and comments.

"How did you know?"

They were in a tavern, enjoying the wine and company after a long day. d'Artagnan did not realize that Athos had directed the question to him.

"How did I know what?" d'Artagnan laughed as he had another swallow of wine. He relished being included, enjoying the camaraderie.

"To come back for me." Athos frowned. "I ordered you to Paris."

D'Artagnan looked towards Aramis who had given him permission to check on Athos. He didn't mention that he had begged the man. "We had already settled Bonnaire. What difference does is make?"

"It's not just that." Athos gave a pointed look at Porthos. "You knew about Porthos being in trouble before Treville announced it."

When the larger man had been arrested for murder, d'Artagnan had awoken the others before the Captain had called them to his office. "I heard something."

Porthos frowned, picking up on Athos's line of question. "You told me that Bonnaire would be dealt with, pay for his crimes before we even had a plan."

"Then there was that comment about the queen. . ." Aramis cocked his head to the side, studying the Gascon.

"The Queen?" Athos narrowed his eyes.

d'Artagnan was losing control of the situation. He had to move this conversation. "I already warned him."

"Warned him?" Porthos raised his brows, his interest piqued.

However, Aramis was better at deflection than the younger man. "This is about d'Artagnan, not me. How did you know?"

"Coincidence. You are seeing things that do not exist, gentlemen." He finished his wine in one gulp, and stood to leave.

Athos reached out, gripping his forearm, keeping him trapped. "There is more than coincidence at work here. We need to finish this conversation."

d'Artagnan pulled his arm back, studying the men before him. "Do you think I have a crystal ball? If I did then my interaction with Vadim would have gone better, don't you think?" He had actually misinterpreted the signs. It did happen from time to time, and he treated it as a reminder that he should not solely rely on his gifts. A strong mind and body were just as important.

Athos shook his head. "It is too uncanny."

They would not give up. They would watch him, trying to notice anything amiss. Under that type of scrutiny his secret would come out, and he would lose everything. Once he told them he would also lose everything. He sighed in defeat. "Back in your room."

Athos gave a hesitant nod, and they headed out into the Paris night. D'Artagnan noted the quietness that had descended upon all of them. D'Artagnan wished for a sudden attack, anything, but Paris was subdued. He felt he was walking to his death, the end of something that was just beginning.

When they entered Athos's rooms, d'Artagnan made a request, "Can you spare some wine?"

"Of course." Athos pulled a bottle from the shelf, which was still mostly filled.

D'Artagnan drank with the idea to numb himself so he would not notice how his friends would now consider him a monster. His mother had warned him about those who would never understand. He swallowed. "I have the Sight. I've always had it, little flashes of what is to be." He rushed forward in his explanation, not looking up yet instead studying his glass and the way the burgundy color clung to the sides of the cup. "My mother had it, too, said it was a gift from God, His angels sending messages." D'Artagnan licked his lips at the silence. "My mother showed me how to hide it, how to use it and the cards to understand." He went inside of his jacket to pull out the cards from a hidden compartment he had sewn in. He laid the cards out on the table. "The flashes are not always right, or I don't understand what they mean until later." D'Artagnan did not want to look at his friends, but gave an example. "I postponed my father's trip to Paris, but fate is fate, and he was still killed."

They were stunned for a moment. It was Aramis, who's faith guided him, who spoke first. "What you speak of is blasphemy, heresy. You would be burned as a witch if anyone found out." Aramis backed away, putting distance between d'Artagnan and himself.

d'Artagnan looked up, saw the horrified faces of his friends. "I told you because I trust you, but I request that you keep my secret. No one can find out." The Gascon collected the cards, slipping them back into their resting place. "I can leave." He stood up, tempted to take a look back, but deciding it was best to wish them well.

His hand was on the door when Porthos made in two steps to stop him. "Wait, d'Artagnan. We don't want you to leave. Right?" Porthos gave a pointed look to the other men. "In the Court, I saw a lot of things, and what he's saying—having the Sight isn't a bad thing."

"No, he shouldn't leave," Athos answered, blinking in his thoughts. "You said you have always been like this?"

The older man was looking for a logical explanation, something to hold onto that was not mysticism. D'Artagnan moved in a little closer, but not near the table. "Yes. I thought they were nightmares, but my mother explained, and showed me how to help people."

"You only use it to help people?" Porthos asked, clarifying that d'Artagnan was not about hexes and evil.

This is why it was difficult to explain because people thought of witches and their unknown power. "What else would I do? I try to give a warning, try to understand what will happen."

"And the cards?" Aramis pointed to d'Artagnan's jacket as if he carried the devil.

d'Artagnan pulled them out, moved closer to the table, thought of these three men and did a spread. Athos dragged his chair back a bit from the table while Aramis remained at a distance with Porthos. D'Artagnan frowned, but then saw the truth of it. "You're not going to turn me in, and you will keep my secret." He picked up the cards with more confidence then he felt. Fate could overrule everything. "I truly mean no harm, but I can't stop seeing what I see. I wish I could."

Athos stood up, offered his hand to d'Artagnan in a forearm grip. Porthos placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Aramis?" Athos asked.

"Yes," he nodded, "it has to be a gift if it's helped save Athos and brought Porthos peace."

* * *

 

They went on as normal, but this time with d'Artagnan sharing his visions. He did not have them all the time, but he helped to foil a plot against Treville and unraveled the mystery of some stolen coins at the treasury. No one was hurt, and they were deemed successful missions. Aramis, Porthos and Athos were more accepting and at ease and enjoyed the benefit of having knowledge that others were not privy to.

d'Artagnan was glad he had shared his secret, and ignored the feeling that was growing warning him about danger. His vision was unclear until the day they returned to the garrison to have Red Guards waiting for them. "Arrest him!" A guard pointed to d'Artagnan.

He was quickly surrounded. He did not raise his sword, but the others did.

"For what?" Athos was menacing.

"Witchcraft!" The guard spat, his weapon at the ready. "Your landlord, Bonacieux brought us the evidence."

The vision slotted into place. Who better to find the secret compartment in his jacket then a tailor? The man had been suspicious lately, and making inquiries about d'Artagnan.

" _You knew_ ," Aramis said in a hushed tone by the Gascon's ear.

d'Artagnan did not believe it was wise to answer.

Treville came down the stairs, batting away the swords. "d'Artagnan needs to go with these men until we sort it out."

d'Artagnan nodded, stood his ground when he was shoved. It was the least he could do, and Porthos yelled out, "Whatever you do to him, then we will do to you."

It was two days before he saw his friends again, and they were allowed to visit him at the _chatelet_. d'Artagnan had a list of what they had done to him, and hoped Porthos would be able to exact his revenge.

D'Artagnan placed himself near the iron bars with the hope of feeling like there was more air. He was resting, which was all he could do for the wounds he had suffered under the guards' hands. When Porthos, Aramis and Athos arrived they did so with much clamor. Thankfully, they sat down next to him, instead of standing over his cell so he did not have to look up.

"What happened to you?" Aramis asked, touching his arm through the opening.

D'Artagnan shifted his clothes to address his disheveled appearances, but nothing could hide the bruising, slices and his haphazard haircut he had received. "They are looking for the witches' mark."

"Did they find it?" Porthos asked. "In your hair?"

"They will find anything they want," Athos informed them to which d'Artagnan nodded.

"They asked me to recite the Pater Noster without mistakes or hesitation, but with the priests nothing is every perfect." d'Artagnan lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. In those moments he saw what he had to do to protect his friends. The trial would start tomorrow, if it could be called that. "Promise me that you will not stand with me." d'Artagnan tucked his legs in.

"What?" Aramis squeezed his arm a little too much.

"It will go badly for you. Promise me." He put steel behind his words. He would not have their blood on his hands at the end.

Porthos placed a hand on Aramis's grip so it lessened. "You've seen it?"

D'Artagnan nodded. "Athos, I want your word as a musketeer."

Athos granted him a slow nod.

"This isn't right," Aramis repeated, having become a convert to d'Artagnan's ability, or the fact that brotherhood and friendship had won out and shown the religious man the truth. This was the same boy from Gascony that had come to avenge his father, and stayed to become a musketeer.

* * *

 

Poor Constance. She would not listen to him, and went ahead to testify for him, but damned herself in the process at a witless woman.

"And while he was a lodger were you not mesmerized by him, helped him in his schemes. . ." The Cardinal asked, his cold stare showing his snakelike conduct. "You were very willing to help the musketeers something unbecoming, distasteful to most women."

"No, I helped because I wanted to-" Constance tried to explain, stressing to the audience who were taking in every titillating fact.

The Cardinal finished her sentence, "Put yourself in danger against your _husband's_ wishes."

"No," she tried again, looked beseechingly at d'Artagnan for his assistance, forgiveness before she was dismissed.

Treville dared to testify to his character too, which went better since the Cardinal could only attack the man the king held in esteem so far. The last part was the examination where the Cardinal revealed d'Artagnan had the witches' marks- moles, old scars, freckles. It did not matter. It was further proof. A priest testified about d'Artagnan's hesitation in fulfilling the prayer.

d'Artagnan tried not took look at his friends, instead straight ahead with a stern demeanor and ramrod straight posture. The King finally did allow him to speak in his own defense.

There was no defense for him. The cards found were his, and he was not going to deny the truth. This would only end one way. He had resigned himself to this fate, feeling it to be immutable.

"I have only sought to help others. I am not a witch, but if I am to be condemned then I only ask that instead of being burned that I receive death by the hands of a firing squad. Both lead to the same end."

There was grousing around him. This was unsatisfactory to the crowd who wanted to see him burn. While the crowd and court were growing louder, one voice broke through,

"Wait!"

"Announce yourself," the Cardinal keened his neck trying to see who had called out.

"Olivier d'Athos, Count de la Fère." Athos looked different, unrecognizable to those who knew him as a musketeer as he was in finery, polished clean. His hair was neatly brushed off his face with most of his beard removed, leaving only a mustache and hair on his chin, sacrificed as a last effort for his friend. "I wish to speak before the judgment with new information that may help the king make a prudent decision." He gave a courtly bow.

"I have been helped by this young man. He saved my life from a fire that ravaged my home." Athos spoke clearly, demanding respect. "I know that had the word gone to Gascony there would be people here praising d'Artagnan, thanking him for their salvation." He turned his head so he was addressing everyone. "Not everything different is a witch or evil. Charles d'Artagnan gives warnings to those in need. This is not witchcraft. This is good." Athos narrowed his eyes at the Cardinal. "I am under no influence. As a peer I am not one so fooled."

The Cardinal withered slightly. "Thank you, Comte for your impassioned plea, but I believe it is too late."

The King interrupted, "Your Eminence, is it never too late for justice."

"Yes, Sire," the Cardinal agreed in a flat tone.

"d'Artagnan is an apprentice to be a musketeer, my soldiers who are the utmost loyal. He has helped the crown even though he was under no obligation. If he was this evil creature you describe, then could he, would he not have hurt me? Instead he has defended the Queen, myself and France as an apprentice." The King's announcement had the crowd murmuring once more.

d'Artagnan saw through it now. Athos had given the King an opportunity to make the right decision.

"As is my right, d'Artagnan is free to go. It is determined that he is not a witch. Set him free!" The crowd erupted in a cheer, the tide changing once more for the young man. The King grinned, and he turned to his wife. "That was invigorating."

D'Artagnan's shoulders dropped in relief. He heard Porthos whoop while Treville ordered the Red Guards to release the chains around d'Artagnan's wrists. When the weight dropped off he was enveloped in a quick hug by Aramis and Porthos. Athos remained at a distance.

"I promised I would not intervene as a musketeer, not at the Comte." Athos gave a twisted grin.

d'Artagnan did not respond, instead hugging his friend in gratitude. "I'll ruin your finery." He tried to pull away, very conscious of his clothing carrying the scent and evidence of the chatelet. Athos ignored him, and they were swept up by Aramis and Porthos.

When they broke apart the room had already started to clear. They followed the stragglers out to the sunlight where the Gascon breathed in his freedom.

"You my friend need a hat," Aramis commented.

d'Artagnan's hand went to his hair. He had almost forgotten the rough haircut. It would need to be all cut off. He groaned, thinking of how even younger he would look with his hair shorter.

"And you dear Comte, will need to grow back your beard to be the musketeer we all know." Aramis went to place a hand on Athos's face, but Athos avoided it easily.

"We will be avoiding palace duty for the time being until the rumors have quieted and another scandal grips the nobility." Athos took Aramis's hat and placed it on d'Artagnan's head.

"How do you think it all turns out, lad?" Porthos asked, wrapping an arm around d'Artagnan's shoulders. "Will you become a musketeer?"

His mother had told him that true fate could not be changed. He had still tried. After this saga, his trust in these men, he knew he would be a musketeer with Athos, Aramis and Porthos by his side. He did not need a vision to confirm it. "Brothers forever."


End file.
